Reflections of a Beast
by Owl-songs
Summary: Nothing is what it seems in the Underground. Sarah really should have learned this by now.


Reflections of a Beast

Chapter One

_--Due to her position as a prostitute, men have power over her, perhaps more so than Othello or Iago have over Desdemona and Emilia. What little power Bianca does retain lies in the fact that…_

Sarah Williams paused, considering her paper with a small frown creasing the area between her eyebrows. Female sexuality in _Othello_—was her professor serious? She was in for a brutal semester, that much was certain. They had only been assigned the play two days ago, hardly enough time to do the level of analysis he seemed to expect. Glancing around at her classmates, she was distantly amused to find every head bent as hands raced across the pages. Every now and then someone would glance up at the clock ticking over the professor's desk and a look of abject terror would blossom in their eyes, before they resumed their frantic scribbling.

"Five minutes," her professor called from the front of the room. He sounded slightly too gleeful for Sarah's immediate comfort, but she returned to her essay rather than face whatever consequences he had in store should she fail to complete the exam. Five minutes later saw her punctuating her final sentence with a flourish, and a small, smug smile hovering over her lips as she handed in her finished analysis. She could feel the professor's eyes burning into her back as she slowly gathered her belongings and walked casually from the room. He said nothing to impede her progress. Sarah grinned triumphantly. Victory was hers!

No sooner had she crossed the threshold of the classroom, than a tall, dark haired boy bounded up to Sarah and casually slung his arm around her shoulders. Sarah smiled.

"Whoo! That Crowley's something, isn't he?" he exhaled. "Thank goodness we decided to come to class today. Can you imagine what would have happened if we hadn't shown up?"

"All too easily!" Sarah laughed. "But I'm not the one with the habit of sleeping past noon every day. You really ought to work on that, Guy."

"Oh woeful betrayal! I am struck down! Such cruel words—it's a wonder how I survive!" Guy retorted teasingly. Sarah pushed him away playfully, to no effect. "Honestly though—I think it's that clock of his. It hangs over us, ticking on and on, like it's just waiting to strike the thirteenth hour. Gives me the chills."

Sarah stilled. There was something in his words, a phrase, that felt so familiar. Her skin prickled and a ghostly shudder of cold ran down her back.

_The thirteenth hour…_

"Sarah?" Guy asked, peering into her eyes. Sarah shook off the feeling of lingering unease and mustered up a smile.

"Something the matter?" she asked. She was careful to keep her voice from sounding forced.

"Nothing. You were just off in your own little world all of a sudden." Guy slowly relaxed, then grinned. "Spirited away by the fairies again, were you?"

"Nah, just a bit of déjà vu. Besides, fairy revels are Johanna's thing. You know that."

"I do at that." he laughed, steering them through the halls and down to the quad. "Though strangely, I find the image of you frolicking through the dorm halls oddly entertaining—"

"And the fact that I would be drunk and probably not wearing much of anything has nothing to do with it?" Sarah asked wryly. Guy sketched a pose of perfect innocence.

"Oh, no. Never crossed my mind."

"Naturally."

The pair came to a miraculously empty table and claimed it. Guy dropped his books and bag on the grass next to them and then sprawled out on the seat with his back reclined against the red plastic tabletop. He sighed with theatrical satisfaction as every bone and muscle in his body loosened and untensed. Sarah, who had carefully set her books down on the seat beside her, watched him with amusement before opening a spiral notebook and her copy of Joseph Campbell's _Hero of a Thousand Faces_ to take notes.

"Hey Sarah?" Guy twisted his head in a way forbidden to all but the most flexible of acrobats and some types of owls to look at her. She didn't look up from her book as she answered.

"Yes?" Guy's heart pounded in his throat. It was now or never.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" Time stretched and stood still. Seconds became years as he waited for her reply.

"Sure." He closed his eyes and a slow smile spread across his face. She'd said yes! "I'll ask Johanna, see if she can meet us tonight." His heart plummeted.

"Right," he said hollowly.

"It's been ages since we last had dinner together. It will be so much fun! Don't worry, I'll bring drinks—no vodka, not after what happened the last time. You'll make the call for Chinese food?"

Guy felt himself nodding.

"Great! I'll see you at eight?" Sarah quickly packed up her belongings and stood. Her ratty black backpack swung where it dangled from her shoulder. "I've got to go, but I'll see you later. Bye!"

She swept away before Guy even had the chance to collect himself. She was halfway across the quad when he finally gathered enough of his wits to call out an answer, but she was too far off to hear him in any event.

Sarah returned to her dorm just as the oversized campus clock struck four. Trudging slowly up the long flight of stairs, Sarah paused to catch her breath and reflect on the end of her exchange with Guy. She wasn't blind--she knew what he had been after. It was a pity that she couldn't bring herself to feel about him the same way he seemed to think he felt about her. She really did care about him, but it could only ever be in the capacity of a friend. Sarah sighed. Guy had been among the very first of her college friends, and one of the few with whom she had remained close. Together he, Sarah, and Sarah's roommate Johanna had made up a happy trio of deeply loyal friends. They had been that way for the past three years, and Sarah had been content for things to continue as they had before. So far Sarah had been unable to deter him with boulder-sized hints, and since she had yet to come up with any other solution, she was stuck in the awkward position of pretending she was completely oblivious to his (admittedly obvious) attraction to her.

Dismissing thoughts of relationships-which-weren't from her mind, Sarah dug her key out from the bottom of her bag and unlocked the door. The miserably tiny dorm was empty but for two twin-sized beds, a lamp, a shared desk, and two laundry baskets. Mercifully, the room didn't smell. Sarah walked the scant steps to her bed and dumped her book bag at the foot of it before collapsing into her bed to gaze at the ceiling.

"Welcome home Sarah," she whispered.

_"I hate you! I hate YOU!" She screamed at the room, empty except for herself and the baby. She clutched Lancelot closer to her chest. "Someone save me, someone take me away from this awful place!"_

_Thunder rolled as she turned to glare at the infant in his crib, wailing all the louder at her cries._

_"What do you want? You want a story? Huh?" Venom laced her every word. She crossed the room to sit on the bed. "Okay. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child, and he wanted everything for himself, and the young girl was practically his slave." Her tale continued, a cruel mockery of a bedtime story, as she grew more and more absorbed in playing out her misery. The baby's cries refused to cease._

_"Oh, all right! All right! Knock it off. Come on." The girl went to the baby and took it from its crib bouncing it up and down, to no avail. "Stop it, stop it! I'll say the words!" She threatened, back to the story now. Then, as if locked in internal conflict, she turned. "No, I mustn't, I mustn't say…I wish…I wish…I can bear it no longer! Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!" She chanted. _

_Thunder crashed, and the baby's cries escalated to ear-splitting wails. "Oh Toby, stop it! Oh, I wish I did know what to say to make the goblins take you away." She glowered down at the child resentfully. Suddenly she looked up, gazing into space, a look of revelation spreading slowly over her features. Glancing down at the boy, she began again. "I wish…I wish…" The volume of the wails increased, and her train of thought vanished. Scowling bitterly once more, she replaced the child in his crib, tucked him in, and stalked towards the door. As she turned out the light, she said, as one last poison barb towards the child that could by no means understand her, "I wish the goblins really would come and take you away. Right now."_

Sarah Williams awoke from her dream with no memory of it whatsoever.

Disclaimer: None of what you recognize belongs to me. I can claim the opening expert from an essay, Guy, and the puny dorm room as my own. Nothing more.

Author's Note: I have chosen to continue one of my one-shots, _Reflections of a Beast_, as a result of a lovely review from my first ever reviewer, Dark Roswellian Angel, whom I now thank emphatically, and the fact that I have far too much time on my hands this summer and my imagination has once again run off with my sanity. Judging by what I have planned so far, this is looking to be one of the largest multi-chapter fics I have ever attempted. As always, reviews are very much appreciated, and a motivator for writing, as this story will attest. ;)


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